Everly, a master of feigning innocence, decided to add 'feigning unconsciousness' to her resume. The moment that sweet-smelling handkerchief had touched her face, she'd instinctively held her breath. A neat little trick from her training—never inhale when a stranger offers you a scented rag. So, no, she wasn't sedated. She was just… method acting.
Her sudden, boneless slump was a performance worthy of an Oscar. A total, deliberate flop. She let herself be a ragdoll, a sack of very annoyed potatoes.
Let the bad guys think they'd won. Let them carry her right to their secret lair. It was like getting a free, albeit extremely rough, taxi ride.
Then came the jostling. Two sets of hands grabbed her, lifting her with a grunt that was frankly insulting. They were treating her like she weighed a ton.
Rude. Did she not look like she was in peak physical condition?
